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  "Anyway, thanks for your help with Henry earlier. He's so accident-prone, it's a wonder I don't have a head of gray hair." Ruth smoothed her dark hair back from her forehead.

  "Any time," Hal answered smoothly. "I hope he's doing okay."

  Ruth paused before answering to point into the distance. Henry ran after Noah, who in turn chased one of the girl cousins. The children ran around and around the baseball field, sending their laughing shouts through the crisp fall air.

  "I'd say he's doing fine," Ruth said wryly. "And I'm off to get a massage."

  Laila oohed. "That sounds nice!"

  "Lots of us are getting one. You should get one, too!" Ruth rolled her head on her shoulders, wincing. "They come right to your room and do it."

  Laila thought of her already rapidly depleting bank account and shrugged. Even with Ian's insurance money to pad her bank account, this trip was costing a fortune. "Maybe some other time. It's pretty expensive."

  "Then just get your man there to give you one," Ruth said, setting off. "He looks like he'd be pretty good at it!"

  When Ruth had passed out of hearing range Hal said, "I could give you a massage, if you want."

  "Hal, that's not part of the package." Laila headed toward the small bridge spanning a chuckling stream. In the summer time, there'd be ducks. Today only the water rippled through the grass.

  "No, I mean it." Hal followed her over the charming log bridge and along the trail through a small patch of woods. "A real massage. That's what I'm going to school for."

  That stopped her. "Really? But your resumé said you had degrees in business and accounting."

  A cloud passed over his face. "I don't do that any more."

  The trail was still clear of leaves, most of which still clung to the trees in brilliant shades of orange, red and gold. It wouldn't be long before they fell and left the trees bare and the path covered , but for now Laila walked with Hal and felt as though they might be the only two people around for miles.

  "Why not?" she asked eventually, when several minutes had passed with only the sound of their feet crunching on the gravel.

  "I had my own business. Kessler, Kessler and Bower." A note of bitter pride crept into Hal's voice. "We were voted most successful new business our first year out. We did really well for five years."

  "And then?" Laila prompted.

  Hal's smile was forced. "Kessler and Bower ran off to the Bahamas and filed for divorce, taking two-thirds of the business with them."

  Somehow Laila didn't see Hal running away to the Bahamas. "Your wife?"

  "Ex-wife," he corrected. "And ex-partner. John and I had known each other for fifteen years."

  "Ouch." Laila pulled her coat closer around her neck. "Hal, that's terrible. I'm sorry."

  "Yeah, me, too." He kicked a pile of leaves that had accumulated. "To make it worse, they sued me for my third of the practice. They won."

  "And that's why you're working for LoveMatch." Suddenly it all clicked together. "But you're going to school, too?"

  "Massage Therapy and Healing Touch." Hal stretched out his hands and wiggled the fingers. "I figured that making people feel better made more sense than just making them feel richer."

  "I'm impressed."

  He looked sideways at her. "Yeah?"

  Laila nodded and slipped her hand into his, even though there was nobody around to see them. "Yeah."

  Once again, dinner was riotous. It was a good thing the Alsters had reserved the private dining room for the entire week. Hal couldn't imagine this group eating with the rest of Bramblewood's guests. Dessert was only now being served and the clock said nearly eight o'clock.

  He and Laila were seated across from each other. Every so often she'd break off whatever she was doing and look at him. Hal was always looking back.

  "Can't you take your eyes off him for just one second and talk to your own mother?" Laila's mother Irene teased her daughter.

  Laila blushed. "Oh, Ma."

  Irene gave Laila a squeeze around the shoulders. "Don't worry about it, doll. He's a catch."

  Seeing them so close together, Hal saw how much Laila resembled her mother. They both had the same sleek, dark hair, though Irene's was shot through with strands of silver. The same mouth and chin. It was easy to see what Laila would look like in thirty years or so. Hal wished he'd have the opportunity.

  "It's such a shame you had to leave the ring at the jeweler's to be refitted," Irene went on. She grabbed up Laila's hand and rubbed the bare finger. "It just doesn't seem the same without a ring on the finger."

  "No, it sure doesn't," Laila said with a glance at Hal.

  Remembering earlier how Laila had injected conflict into the conversation to set up the break up, Hal thought this might be a good time to do a little more. "If Laila didn't have such fat fingers, the ring would've fit perfectly."

  Laila's amused expression turned fierce. "Fat fingers?"

  Irene clucked, patting Laila's hand. "Dear, I'm sure David didn't mean it the way it sounded."

  "Sure I did," Hal said cheerfully. "They're like little sausages. Plump little sausages."

  Laila snatched her hand out of her mother's grip and looked at it, her expression appalled. "They are not!"

  "Laila, I think David's teasing you." Irene frowned. "At least, I hope he's teasing."

  Hal leaned across as though he had a secret to tell Irene. "I keep telling her she'd better quit eating so much or she's never going to fit into her wedding dress." He laughed at his own witticism. "I mean, just because we're going on a honeymoon cruise is no excuse to start looking like a whale!"

  Now Irene's frown deepened. She looked at Laila's scowling face and back to Hal. "David, Laila has a beautiful figure. How can you say she's fat?"

  "Oh, it's all right, Mrs. Alster. Laila knows I like my women plump. Makes it easier to catch 'em when they try to run away!"

  "And I can't imagine why they'd try," Irene said dryly. She kissed Laila's cheek. "I'm going to talk to your bubbe, Laila. We'll see you later?"

  Laila's reply was terse. "Yes. I think so."

  "Good." Irene patted Laila's shoulder, gave Hal a dubious glance, and left her seat.

  When the server placed Laila's thick slice of chocolate cake in front of her, she didn't pick up her fork to eat. Hal dove into his and demolished it in several bites. Curiously, he watched as Laila just sat and stared.

  "Aren't you going to eat that?" he asked. Silently, she shook her head no. "Mind if I have it?"

  Again, she didn't speak, but indicated with her hand that he was to go ahead. He did. It was delicious.

  "Ahhh." He sighed, patting his stomach, which would definitely suffer for this week's indulgences. He'd have to hit the gym pretty hard for the next month. "That was great."

  "Glad you enjoyed it." In the midst of the chaos broiling all around them, Laila's answer was dangerously soft. In fact, he almost missed it.

  Laila's brother, Eli, slipped into the chair her mother had vacated. "Thanks again for your help this afternoon with Henry. He's always getting banged up."

  "Better than getting knocked up, right, Lil?" Hal reached across the table to poke her arm good-humoredly. He was beginning to enjoy playing the role Laila had assigned him. He'd always wanted to try out for a part in a play.

  "David," Laila said through gritted teeth. Her smile was strained. "I don't think--"

  "Laila?" Elijah had turned to look at her, brow furrowed. "You okay?"

  "Fine," Laila answered.

  Her brother didn't seem convinced.

  "Hey, you know women," Hal said. "Always got a bug up their bloomers about something."

  Eli just stared at him before nodding slowly. He gave his sister another thoughtful glance. "Yeah. Whatever. Laila?"

  "I'm fine," she told him. "Just tired. I think I'll head back to the room early."

  "Great idea!" Hal said. He pushed back from the table. "You know you could always use some extra beauty sleep. I mean, hey, I could pack my wardro
be in the bags under your eyes--"

  Laila shot him a look so murderous Hal took a step back. "Good night, Eli," she said and got up from the table. She left the room quickly, leaving Hal to stand behind and stare after her.

  "Oops," Hal said, but without enthusiasm. He'd screwed up. He wasn't sure quite how, but he knew he had.

  "I'd say so," Eli said with a shake of his head. "You'll be sleeping on the couch tonight."

  He already had to sleep on the couch, but Eli didn't know that. "Yeah. I guess I'd better go see about her."

  Eli merely raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "I'd let her cool off for a while, but I guess you know her well enough to decide for yourself."

  "Yeah," Hal replied weakly.

  The problem was, he didn't know Laila at all.

  Laila worked her numb fingers around the old-fashioned radiator knob to no avail. It was stuck solid. The metal bars were only lukewarm, not hot enough to combat the night's sudden bitter dip to temperatures. She tried again, cursing under her breath as her fingers slipped, and she scraped her knuckles.

  The knock on the door made her whirl around, fuming. Hal? Unless he had a wrench with him or a container of hot coffee, she wasn't much interested in seeing him. The knock came again. Rap, rap, rap.

  "Who is it?" Laila hollered.

  His answer was muffled. "It's me. David."

  At least he wasn't having any trouble staying in character. If she'd had any doubts, their conversation at dinner tonight had proved that! Laila crossed the room, skirting the bed and the pile of blankets on the couch.

  She flung open the door and turned immediately around, refusing to look at him. "Shut the door. It's freezing out there!"

  "In here, too."

  She heard him stomping his feet and blowing into his hands.

  "That's not going to help this radiator," she said, still trying to work the controls.

  "Have you called housekeeping?" Hal asked.

  He came up behind her, close. Too close. Laila stiffened, silently warning him to keep his distance. He backed off a step.

  "Of course I've called housekeeping," she said coldly. "Unfortunately, their night service man called in drunk tonight."

  "Did you tell them how cold it was in here?" Hal's chattering teeth interrupted his calm question.

  Still angry with him for his boorish behavior at dinner, Laila whirled on him. "No, Mr. Smartypants! I didn't! You know why? Because there aren't any other rooms available. The inn's all booked up, and I didn't want to ruin my grandparent's week by complaining about something that could easily be fixed in the morning!"

  Hal held up his hands. "Whoa. Okay."

  Laila blew hard, gusting the hank of hair off her forehead. "The knob is stuck."

  "Can I take a look?"

  Laila stepped aside. "Be my guest."

  Hal pondered the radiator's configuration, running his large hands over the metal. He tried twisting it. He tried pushing it. With every failed effort, Laila could see him becoming more and more determined. It was that male ego thing.

  "If I just yank on it hard enough," Hal said, grunting.

  Laila leaned in for a closer look. "It's not going to budge."

  "I can get it," Hal insisted. He put one foot up to brace himself, then put both hands on the slippery metal knob.

  Laila bent down to peer under his arms. "You'll never get it."

  "I'll get it!"

  Hal puffed and groaned, tugging. He was really putting a lot of force into it. If Laila hadn't still been so miffed about his earlier performance at dinner, she might even have admired his strength.

  The knob suddenly let go. Hal's arms flew backward, his elbow catching Laila square in her right eye. The force of the blow knocked her to her knees, too stunned to even cry out. Hal tottered on unbalanced legs for one moment before tripping over her prone body. He landed right on her, crushing the air out of her in a strangled wheeze.

  Laila would have yelled if she'd been able to breathe. As it was, the blow to her eye had temporarily blinded her to anything but flashing red spots. Without breath in her lungs, all she could do was gasp and claw at the carpet.

  "Laila! Are you okay?" Hal rolled off her, and gathered her into his arms.

  Laila still couldn't speak, though her vision was returning slowly. She felt like an elephant had sat on her. She must have looked as awful as she felt because Hal scooped her up and staggered with her toward the tiny bathroom.

  From her one good eye, every bit of detritus and debris scattered on the floor became magnified a million times. No! Her mind screamed, watching Hal's big foot connect with a particularly messy tangle of his socks. No!

  But he caught himself, saving them both from hitting the floor again with a heroic effort. The next thing she knew, Laila was sitting on the toilet seat. Hal ran cold water on the washcloth hanging in the tub and pressed it to her eye. The shock of it made her gasp again. When she pulled the white cloth away, it was tinged pink.

  "You must have clipped your head on the edge of the bed," Hal said. He gently took the cloth from her and pressed it back to the wound, which was starting to sting. "Oh, Laila, I'm so sorry."

  "You say that a lot," Laila managed to reply.

  She didn't mean to cry, but all at once the tears came slipping down her cheeks in fat, hot tracks. The sobs wrenched out of her chest, hurting her sore ribs. It was more than embarrassing, the way she burst loose, but Laila couldn't stop it any more than she could have stopped Hal from knocking her over.

  He smells so nice, she thought blearily, as he pulled her against his chest. Like fresh air. Like mint.

  His arms around her were strong and warm. His hand stroked her hair in long, gentle sweeps that made her scalp tingle. Being hugged by Hal was wonderfully comforting. Strangely, all of that made her cry harder.

  Hal murmured her name, tugging her down off her perch and into his lap. He tucked her head neatly under the curve of his chin, settling her more firmly into his embrace. With smooth, gentle movements he rocked her, all the while just holding her and stroking her hair.

  "I'm so sorry," he whispered again. "Oh, Laila, believe me. I'm a big, dumb klutz, but I'd never, ever, want to hurt you."

  "Then why did you say I'm f--f--fat?" The last word wailed out of her. Laila's sobs regenerated.

  The rocking paused for just a moment. "What?"

  She pulled away from him to look him in the face. "At dinner! You said I had fat fingers and b--bags under my eyes!"

  Hal frowned. "I was just trying to be an insensitive jerk."

  "Well, you succeeded!"

  Now her sobs tapered off into just a few, chest-hitching sniffles. Laila's face felt hot, her eye swollen, her nose a runny, sloppy mess. Hal reached across her to the toilet paper roll and pulled off a thick handful of paper.

  Laila blew her nose messily and wiped her eyes. "Ouch!"

  Hal handed her the still cool cloth. "Put this on. We'll get some ice for it. You're going to have a real shiner, though."

  She dabbed at her eye, feeling the sore spot just above her brow. The cloth came back even pinker. Laila groaned, pressing it back against the ache.

  Hal shifted a little, easing her off his thighs. "My legs are falling asleep."

  Laila realized they were sitting squashed between the clawfoot tub and the pedestal sink. Hal had drawn his long legs into a criss-cross in order to hold her on his lap, and his head pressed precariously against the sink's underside. Her own back rubbed uncomfortably against the overhanging lip on the tub. The tile floor was cold, too.

  Awkwardly, they disentangled themselves. Laila got up. Again the red spots flashed in front of her eyes and she had to grab the sink to keep from falling. Hal held her hand, helping her back to her prior seat on the toilet.

  "I only said those things because I thought you'd want me to," Hal told her.

  Laila felt recovered enough to try sarcasm. "Sure. What woman doesn't like being told she's fat and has bags under her eyes?"

&nb
sp; Hal looked perplexed. "Women don't like that."

  "Duh!" Laila scowled. "So what made you think I would?"

  Hal sighed. "I didn't think you would. I just thought the whole point was we were going to break up. I was just giving you reasons."

  "You did a good job," Laila replied.

  She noticed he was still holding her hand. Her anger started to slip away, and now she could step back and look at the situation in a different light. Of course Hal was trying to be a jerk. That's what she'd paid him to do.

  "If it helps," he said almost shyly, "I didn't mean any of those things."

  "No?" Laila took the cloth away again with a little hiss of pain. A red flower had blossomed in the center of the fabric, but the bleeding appeared to have stopped.

  "Of course not." Hal cleared his throat. "Laila, I think you are one of the most beautiful women I've ever dated."

  That stopped her completely. "You do?"

  He smiled, the unexpectedly sexy smile that made her toes curl. "Sure."

  "Well." Laila didn't have much else to say. His words made her feel incredibly warm all over, and she had to bite her lip to keep from giggling like a giddy schoolgirl. "Thanks."

  Hal seemed warm too. His face was flushed and bright beads of sweat were gathering on his forehead. Laila's cheeks felt uncomfortably hot, too, even for a blush. Then she noticed it was more than just her cheeks that felt warm. Her entire body was beginning to sweat.

  "Is it hot in here?" she asked.

  Hal nodded, unzipping his fleece jacket. "Yeah. Really warm."

  "The radiator!" They both spoke at the same time.

  Near-tropical heat greeted them when they went back into the bedroom. The radiator, which before had stubbornly refused to let out more than an early spring day's worth of temperature had now gone straight to an August heat wave. The windows and mirror over the dresser had steamed over.

  "I guess you fixed it," Laila said.

  Hal took off his coat and hung it on the hook behind the door. "It's like an oven in here!"

  "I'll open a window," Laila said, but when she tried to cross the room to do so, she felt so light-headed she had to sit down on the bed.